


out of the trashcan & into quinn king's bed

by anabananana



Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, cant stop wont stop, im such trash for these two fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8218408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anabananana/pseuds/anabananana
Summary: She wanted to bring her coffee in bed, because it looked like someone hadn’t done that in a while.





	1. rather be fucking some nobody

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a multi chapter au where rach and quinn are running their new show which has a female suitor. i'm gonna probs bring in some of the lines and moments from the seasons but they won't be in order and not like exact or anything.
> 
> i rated it mature but it might be explicit later on idk yet but i'll write something in the notes if it is.
> 
> anyways, enjoy, comment, like, etc 
> 
> cheers x

It wasn’t love at first sight. If anyone knew Quinn King at all they would know that she did not believe in love at first sight. But one night something just clicked, maybe it was the dark half moons under Rachel’s constantly watery eyes, or maybe it was the t-shirt that she’d chucked on inside out, or perhaps it was just the look that she gave Quinn and _only_ Quinn, but something about it, made Quinn King’s ice cold heart melt, just a little. Anyone else who looked like Rachel did on a bad day, and let’s be honest – every day was a bad day with this girl, Quinn would have called pathetic, probably would have fired them on the spot just for _looking_ like they’d been sleeping in a trash can, but Rachel was different. Despite the stink of homelessness about her, she was good at her job and would give up anything for it. Just like Quinn. It only took that short moment for Quinn to realize she wanted Rachel. Wanted her slammed up against a wall begging for Quinn’s touch. Wanted her writhing beneath her, moaning and breathless. And wanted her tired and wild eyed first thing in the morning. She wanted to bring her coffee in bed, because it looked like someone hadn’t done that in a while. Yeah, Quinn King had a soft side, but only when it came to Rachel Goldberg.

 

 

“Uhuh. Fine. Okay.” Quinn angrily slammed her thumb down on the end call button. “Where’s my coffee? Pigtails! Go! What is wrong with you? What is wrong with everybody today? Goddammit!”

Quinn sighed, pushing a shaky hand through her hair. Then shaking her fringe back into place, she marched through set towards her office. She grabbed a walkie on her way and screeched into it, “Rachel! Meet me in my office, _now._ ”

“I’m already there.” Was the steady response.

“At least _someone_ is trying today.” Quinn murmured, swiftly picking up her pace. “But not hard enough.” She pushed open her office door and found Rachel lounging on the couch.

“What are we doing to liven this train wreck of a season up? I need a punch up. I need drama. I need _something_ , so that we don’t get canceled.” Quinn commanded, sitting down forcefully at her desk, rifling through the pile of paperwork that had tripled since she left this morning.

“Wait, canceled?”

“Uhuh. Keep up, Goldberg. Ratings have fucking plummeted and I know you’ve got like a _ton_ to do, like maintaining your homeless image, or whatever, but I’m _trying_ to run a show. A show that won’t get canceled, because, as shocking as this piece of news will be to you, I don’t actually have a life except for this.” The last comment fell into the air between them. A piece of truth that Quinn wasn’t meant to say out loud, but there it was. She twisted her chair around so she wasn’t facing Rachel anymore.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get something. Don’t worry about it.” Rachel murmured, standing up and walking to the door. “I’m your dragon. I got this.”

Hearing the door click shut was all Quinn needed to allow herself to break down. When Gary had called this morning she had been anticipating rave reviews – the first season with a girl suitor. This was meant to be big, huge, it was meant to _work_. She and Rachel had been talking about this for years and when they finally got it to happen, there was no doubt in either of their minds that it would be a hit. They were the dream fucking team, right? Money, dick, power. _Yeah, it’s not working, Quinn. I need you to get your head straight and give me a show that works, otherwise you’re done._ Otherwise you’re done? One episode and it could all come crashing down? _Fuck that._ She wiped under her eyes, inspecting her fingers for mascara stains, and then took a deep breath.

“Pigtails! I _still_ don’t have a coffee in my hand!” She barked into her walkie, already feeling more like herself. If this show was going under, it would have to take her with it, and Quinn King does not go down without a fight. (Except on Rachel Goldberg)

 

 

“Alright people, here’s the deal. Get your dicks in line and get them fighting, begging, _crying_ – I don’t care! Give me something I can work with. New girl-“

“It’s…” The new girl trailed off, seeing the look on Quinn’s face and realizing she didn’t give a crap what her name was.

“New girl, give your guys to Rachel. Sit back and _learn_ something, because you’re obviously not capable of handling anything else. Let’s go!”

Jay, Rachel and the rest of the crew scattered and Quinn was left with the new girl.

“I just wanted to say that, like, I’m totally in awe of you! You’re incredible! You and Rachel are like awesome together!” The new girl gushed eagerly. Quinn slowly turned around.

“What do you mean _together_?” She knew the girl probably didn’t mean anything by it, but she was in a mood today and everything was getting to her.

“Oh, I just meant, like, you guys as a team! You know, girl power!” The girl said, smiling. She obviously hadn’t been around long enough to notice the signs of Quinn King about to lose her shit.

“Uhuh, sure. Get out. Get OUT.”

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry, does your miniscule brain not compute English? Are you incapable of following instructions?” Quinn let out a loud groan of anger. She was just so fucking tired. She hadn’t gotten laid in weeks and her stress levels were so high they could probably reach the moon. “I’m sorry.”

“A-are you okay?” And there was something in the girl’s voice that reminded her ever so little of Rachel, because no one really asked her that question except Goldie.

“Yeah. Just perfect.” The girl stood up, moving closer to Quinn.

“You don’t seem it.” And then before Quinn knew what was happening the girl was kissing her and she was kissing her back, because it was easy and she was there. She was there and Rachel wasn’t. The girl’s lips moved down her neck, her hands pushing up Quinn’s top, and as much as she wanted to let it happen – because she was in fact super horny, she knew she couldn’t. As much as she wanted this girl to be Rachel, she wasn’t.

“Wow. Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck kind of crazy this is, but we’ve got a runner.” Quinn would know Rachel’s voice anywhere. If someone morphed it, making it helium pitched or whatever, she still thinks she could recognize it. It’s the one voice that can pull her out of anything. Including a fantasy – the girl with the hands under her top was not who she wanted, and as much as she wanted to be fucked today, it wasn’t going to be like this. She pulled her shirt down roughly and pushed pass the new girl to the door.

“My name’s Chloe, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Quinn turned back. “You’re fired. Chloe.” She then walked briskly out the room, catching up to Rachel and grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Hey, I’m not judging you or anything, but seriously?” Rachel was shaking her arm loose from Quinn's grip, and there was something akin to anger in her tone, which gave Quinn a wave of satisfaction. “Actually, I am judging you. I remember someone yelling at me to get my ass in line this morning. This is our show, yeah? I want it to work as much as you do, but we _both_ need to get our asses in line for that to happen. I thought I had dibs on being the mental one. That crap you just pulled with _Chloe_ better not happen again.”

“No. It won’t.” Quinn replied curtly. Rachel was already turning away when Quinn added, “Why are you so angry anyway, Rach?”

She expected her not to turn back, but she did, eyes flashing with an emotion Quinn didn’t recognize.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rachel snapped back. “I’m not. Can we get back to work now? We’ve got a runner, and as obvious as it is that you’d rather be fucking some nobody, I’m trying to run a show.”

She continued walking away, leaving Quinn no choice but the follow. But she wasn’t ignoring the butterflies that had flooded into her stomach. _Rachel Goldberg was jealous_.

 

 

“What happened tonight?” Rachel asked. The gawky, textbook nerd sitting in front of her was shaking, his overly large glasses kept slipping down his nose and Rachel was trying to figure it out whether it was because of how hard he was shaking or whether it was due to the copious amount of sweat that was perspiring from his face.

“Look, I don’t want to g-get into it. I want to go h-home.” Then he started to cry. No, not cry – sob, his entire body shook and he placed his sweaty face into his palms, allowing his glasses to get crushed.

“Well done, Rachel! Alright, this I can work with!” Quinn’s voice rang clear in Rachel’s ear.

“Freddie? Just take a breath. Think of this like an exam, all right? You’ve got to get through this hard question otherwise you’re gonna fail. And failure means losing Megan. Do you want to lose Megan?”

“N-no.”

“Great, I don’t want you to either. So, why did you run away tonight?”

“I’m just not c-cut out for this. All the other guys have, l-like, six packs and I-I’m me. M-Megan will never see h-how tough I can be.” Freddie choked out.

“Maybe it’s time for you to prove that to her. I’m not meant to be saying this, Freddie, but the other guys _have_ been talking. Michael especially, talking about how you couldn’t take him in a fight. Look, for me, that kind of stuff doesn’t matter, but I don’t know, maybe that’s what Megan likes to see...” Rachel shrugs, then nods to indicate they can put the cameras down. She steadily walks back to the monitor room, satisfied. She takes her place next to Quinn in front of the monitors, and they watch peacefully as Freddie attempts to punch the lights out of Michael. It’s hilarious. It’s good TV.

“About before,” Rachel starts, after the cameras are all down and everyone is asleep, and it’s just them left in the monitor room, sitting side by side on the desks. “I was out of line. You can fuck whoever you want.”

“Thanks for the _permission_ , Goldie, but a, I don’t need it and b… it was stupid and I meant it when I said it won’t happen again.” Quinn said, not looking at Rachel, even though she could feel Rachel’s eyes on her.

“Are you okay?” Rachel murmurs.

“I don’t want to lose the show.” Quinn whispers, the lump she had managed to push down all night pushed its way back into her throat and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. Rachel put her hand around Quinn’s, and Quinn looked down at them. Rachel knows better than to make promises she can’t keep, so they sit in silence, her hand on Quinn’s for a long time. Until finally, they both stand up and go to their respective places – Quinn to her office, where she’ll crash on the couch and Rachel to her makeshift trailer, then they’ll wake up in another four hours and start again.

This was how it always was– some semblance of a relationship, but not enough to actually be one.


	2. you're not an asshole, you know that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy reading! there's a whole lot more quinn/rachel dynamic in this chapter!

“Quinn?” Rachel’s voice was tentative. She wasn’t sure what to expect, honestly, she knew Quinn didn’t especially like her father, but she must be feeling _something_. When she stepped cautiously into Quinn’s office, she found her splayed out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in one hand that she took steady swigs from, and the other was clutching a folded up piece of paper. She didn’t look at Rachel, but didn’t protest her arrival either. Rachel wasn’t sure what to do or say, but instead stood gingerly at the foot of the couch.

“How _ironic_ ,” Quinn slurred, “That I’m here _drin_ king, when my darling daddy is _dead_ because of just that. But that’s me, isn’t it, Rachel? I never learn.”

Rachel’s jaw clenched, she rarely saw Quinn like this, because normally she would avoid it at all costs. But when Jay had told her that Quinn’s dad had died, she knew she couldn’t just leave her alone. Quinn needed her as much as she needed Quinn, and even though both of them could barely admit that most of the time, there was an unspoken agreement between them. They had each other’s backs. No matter how many stab wounds were still healing on each of them.

“Let me take that,” Rachel murmured, trying to tug the whiskey bottle from Quinn’s hand, but she pulled it close to her chest. “Quinn, let me help you.”

“Help me? _Help_ me? Ha! I’m help _less_ , Rachel.” Quinn laughed, swinging her legs to the floor and standing up unsteadily. She chucked the piece of paper at Rachel and tried moving to her desk, but tripped on her own heels that she had thrown off earlier. She let herself fall to the floor, where she lay on her back, the bottle of whiskey still clutched to her chest, but empty, the remnants of the bottle were now drenching her blouse. Rachel unfolded the piece of paper and read it quietly.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Quinn said.

“He probably wrote it when he was drunk. He doesn’t- didn’t, mean this, Quinn. And if he did, he’s an asshole and it shouldn’t matter.” Rachel scrunched the paper up and discarded it, then lay down on the floor beside Quinn. Quinn twisted her head to look at her; those dark troubling eyes stared back.

“You’re not an asshole, you know that?” Quinn murmured.

“Neither are you, okay?”

Then Quinn stood up, a renewed air of soberness about her, put her heels back on, straightened her skirt and looked down at her ruined blouse.

“Fuck.”

Rachel sat up, looking up at her, as she half stumbled to her desk, rummaging through her desk drawers, finally getting her hands on a clean top. She then unbuttoned her blouse, shrugged out of it, and then looked at Rachel, who was still watching her. Rachel realised she’d never seen Quinn get changed before, or seen her in just her underwear – not that that was something she should have seen, but still. They had known each other for more than six years now; it seemed like something that shouldn’t be such a novelty. But it was, and Rachel couldn’t help but stare at Quinn’s taut stomach, her breasts cupped perfectly in her black, lacy bra, her belly button… Rachel had sudden urge to stick her tongue in it, brush her lips across Quinn’s skin, tease her, skim her nails down her back, she wanted to know what sounds Quinn would make, what sounds she could _induce_ from Quinn. Then Quinn turned away, pulling a fresh top over her head, and the spell was broken. Rachel swallowed hard, before standing up, her legs felt like jelly.

“I’m done grieving, or whatever. I’ve- We’ve got a show to run.”

“Quinn-“ Rachel started, knowing that this couldn’t be healthy – a minute ago this woman was slurring through sentences, her eye lashes thick with tears and runny mascara.

“Don’t. I’m done.” Quinn reinforced, cutting her off.

“Fine, fine. Just promise me something? Don’t… don’t fall into your drink now, okay? You’re not him.”

Quinn’s jaw clenched and she looked to the floor, but finally, she nodded and when she looked up at Rachel again there were tears in her eyes. They were some sort of fun house mirror images of each other – Quinn, trying not to be her father, Rachel, trying not to be her mother. They both kept getting fucked over by men who didn’t deserve them. It was twisted and strange, this alikeness, but it bonded them together.

 

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Jay, guy in hoodie, what’s going on? Who is that?”

“No. F-ing. Idea.”

“Of course someone’s gonna fuck up my day further.” Quinn slammed her walkie on the desk and marched out of the office, Rachel following, trying to keep up with Quinn’s pace. Things had been going reasonably well, Megan and Freddie (who had proved his weakness, rather than his strength in the punch up, but had gained Megan’s sympathy) were on a date that had just started heating up ( _finally some fucking action,_ Quinn had said, clapping her hands in triumph). Then out of the blue, a tall, burly man in a hoody had marched onto set like he owned the place, demanding to see Megan. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on Quinn. Her lips were tight with anger, and if looks could kill he would be a bloody mess on the pavement.

“Who the fuck are you?” She demanded, and for a moment Rachel thought she would have to hold her back, she looked like she was going to lunge at him. This was not going to end well, Quinn obviously hadn’t let anything go from this morning and was in a foul mood, a mood even Rachel couldn’t pull her from.

“I’m here to pick up Megan. I’m her boyfriend and she doesn’t want to be here.” Quinn raked her fingers through her hair and took a shuddering breath.

“Someone get this _idiot_ off my set. _Now._ Where’s security? What the fuck are you all standing around for? Get moving! What is _wrong_ with you? How did this asshole even get on _my_ set in the first place? Do I not pay you enough? Is that why you can’t do your jobs? Huh? I’m so… I’m so _fucking_ tired…” And suddenly Quinn was keeled over, her arms folded around her stomach, as she heaved with sobs. Everyone stood staring, not sure what to do. No one had seen Quinn King like this – so vulnerable. Rachel was the first to move, silently motioning to security to get the man off set, and then she slowly kneeled in front of Quinn and took her face in her hands. Her thumbs brushed across Quinn’s cheeks, trying to clear the mascara and tears.

“Hey,” Rachel murmured. “I’m going to get you home, okay?”

Quinn didn’t respond, still sobbing uncontrollably, her entire body shaking so hard she couldn’t hold herself up anymore. The sight of it tore Rachel apart; it was frightening to see the strongest woman she knew suddenly falling apart.

“That’s a wrap guys. We’ll continue tomorrow. Jay, you’re in charge.” Rachel said. Then she firmly put her arm around Quinn’s waist, forcing her to stand, and walked with her to the car, carefully placing her in the passenger seat. “Do you need anything from your office?”

Quinn shook her head, still rendered speechless, and Rachel got in the driver’s seat. She wasn’t sure what to say, so instead reached over and gave Quinn’s leg a squeeze, and before she could pull her hand away, Quinn placed her own on top, squeezing back. They sat like that for a moment and then quietly away.

 

If Rachel were asked to answer what place felt most like home, she would have to say Quinn’s house. It’s pristine walls, beige couches, the kitchen managing to hold anything Rachel ever craved – it was the house Rachel imagined having if she ever were to own anything that was completely hers. It was Quinn’s sanctum, but somehow she had always been privy to it; she had crashed on the couch countless times, had woken up there with no recollection as to how, and even owned a key. Quinn had placed it on the kitchen bench one morning, a long time ago, creating an unspoken agreement that no matter what, Rachel could come here if she needed to. This was just one more facet of their relationship that didn’t quite fit in the friendship zone, but only in the _Rachel and Quinn_ zone.

 

Quinn had managed to pull herself together during the car ride, but still hadn’t said a word. She was grateful to get off set and going back home reminded her just how long she hadn’t. Since the season had started she had been sleeping in her office, she probably hadn’t been home in almost three weeks. When she stepped inside, it was almost like entering someone else’s home, she felt like a guest. Rachel gently pushed her forward into the kitchen and guided her to a seat at the island. Then, she washed her hands and started raiding Quinn’s fridge and cupboards managing to pull together some ingredients.

“What are you doing?” Quinn’s voice was hoarse.

“Cooking.” Rachel said matter-of-factly, as she chopped an onion.

“No. No, no, no. I don’t want my house burning down.” Quinn said, managing a smile, as she stood up, walking around to the other side of the island and giving Rachel a nudge with her hip to move her out of the way.

“I _can_ cook!” Rachel protested, bumping Quinn back.

“Pancakes, Goldie. Not again.” Quinn raised her eyebrows, and Rachel rolled her eyes, taking Quinn’s place at the island. Rachel watched as Quinn whipped up some pasta, served it and sat down beside Rachel at the island. They hoovered it up like they’d never seen food before, and with the hours they had been working that’s pretty much how it had been.

“How bad was it?” Quinn asked quietly. Rachel had her back to Quinn, as she washed the dishes, and turned off the water as Quinn spoke.

“Quinn-“

“No. Tell me. How much damage control am I going to have to do?”

“None. Quinn, your dad died. I know you think you’re invincible, but no one else is buying it. Not one person expected you to be fine today.” Rachel said, finally turning around. Quinn stayed quiet, watching Rachel carefully.

“Thanks.” She murmured.

“Anytime.” Rachel replied, wiping her hands on the back of her jeans.

 

When Rachel woke up the next morning she wasn’t entirely surprised to find that she was in Quinn’s bed with a slight headache because she did have a vague recollection of what happened the night before. There had been a lot of shots, an attempt to erase the crappy day, and she remembered falling into bed beside Quinn after that, but everything in between was a blur. She turned her head to see Quinn still sound asleep, and she stayed watching her, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Even when Quinn stirred, slowly waking up with a yawn, turning and giving a sharp intake of breath at the sight of Rachel so close to her, staring.

“Don’t do that!” She winced, stumbling out of bed.

“What?” Rachel feigned ignorance, as she watched Quinn move towards the bathroom.

“Look at me so early in the morning.” Quinn said, opening the tap and starting to brush her teeth. Rachel rolled over to lie on her back and stared up at the ceiling, they had shared hotel rooms before so this wasn’t a strange concept – her in bed, while Quinn did her morning routine, but something about it felt weird. There was something that she was forgetting; she could feel it in her gut.

“Did we…” Rachel trailed off, not sure what she was meant to ask anyway.

“Did we what?” Quinn asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Nothing.” Rachel shook her head; it couldn’t have been anything major if Quinn wasn’t calling her out on it, right?

Rachel finally managed to leave Quinn’s bed and they got ready for work, gulping down coffee and aspirin. Luckily, they were both experienced drinkers and the hangover was distant, if even there at all.

 

Quinn left Rachel to go to her office almost immediately after she had parked the car, she needed a moment to gather herself. Today would not be a repeat of yesterday’s disaster. She sat down at her desk, the blouse from yesterday was bunched up on it and she pushed it to the floor in disgust, she was suddenly so angry with herself. She had let her guard down and shown everyone her vulnerability, and maybe that was okay when it was just her and Rachel… Her and Rachel, now that was a whole other thing. A thing she could no longer explain and wasn’t sure she wanted to. A blurry memory of last night flashed into her brain and what bugged her the most was not being able to decipher who kissed who first. Actually, that was lie, what bugged her the most was that Rachel couldn’t remember, when it was all she could see.


	3. get your head out of your ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's sex at the end fam

“Cut that there… Yeah… And put the audio from… Good,” Quinn took a step back from the computer, arms folded, as the promo was played back to her. Rachel looked up at her after it was finished.

“Can I send it through?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good.” Quinn gave Rachel a tight-lipped smile, she _was_ satisfied with the promo, but the threat of ratings dropping and her losing the show was still imminent and resting heavy on her shoulders. It had been three weeks since her dad died and the sympathy that Gary had extended was slowly fading and she was expected to be back to her normal self, producing the same level of work that had been expected from her previously.

“It’s better than good, Quinn. We’ve got something amazing this week. Trust me.” Rachel said, as if reading Quinn’s mind.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Anyway, I’ve got a meeting, so…” Quinn started to walk away.

“Hey, um, can I talk to you later?” Rachel called. Quinn turned back, frowning, and from the look on Rachel’s face could tell that it was serious. She nodded.

“Sure. I’ll meet you in my office at five.”

Then she walked out, her mind racing with things Rachel could possibly want to talk her about.

 

Rachel pulled the trailer door up and ducked inside, closing it behind her. She sat down on her makeshift bed and buried her head in her hands. She was exhausted; all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep for six months straight. She had been thinking about this a lot lately, and the more she thought about it the more she was sure that after this season she wanted to be done. She wanted to get out, take a yearlong hiatus, and just catch up on the world around her. She loved the show and she was proud of how far they had come, and Quinn… Quinn was the most important person in her life right now and to leave her behind, let alone tell her, was going to be hell on earth. The thought of it made her stomach churn, but she knew she had to.

 

Quinn looked down at her cluttered desk and cleared a space for her to rest her elbows. She was glad the meeting had been cut short, because she was barely able to concentrate anyway; her mind was all over the place. Actually, it was in one place, the only place it had been for the last three weeks, she couldn’t shake it from her mind. Rachel’s lips on hers. Her lips on Rachel’s. A fleeting, drunken moment that Quinn couldn’t wrap her head around. She repeatedly went through it in her mind, trying to figure out the intricacies of what had happened in that moment, but simply couldn’t. She knew Rachel didn’t remember, or was choosing not to, either way, it hurt her in a way she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to confront. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was five past five, which meant Rachel would be in here any minute. She tried her best to clear her mind, but as soon as Rachel walked into the room, her eyes flew to her lips and she couldn’t focus.

“… Anyway, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m leaving after this season. I just need some time to myself, and to catch up on sleep and our break between seasons just-“

“What?” Quinn plucked herself from her daydream.

“I don’t want you to be angry. You can do this on your own, Quinn.”

“No.” Quinn shook her head. “No.”

“I need a break and that’s up to me. I don’t belong to you.”

“You don’t belong to anyone, Rachel, that’s the problem! You clearly need somebody with a strong hand to point you in the right direction.” Her mind was racing, being here without Rachel would be the worst fucking thing in the world. Rachel was her rock. The one person she could count on.

“What? Like you?” Rachel shouted, standing up.

“Yes.” Quinn murmured, and then repeated it more firmly, “Yes.”

“What?” Rachel frowned; this wasn’t what she was expecting. And then Quinn was right there in front of her, both palms pressed firmly against her cheeks, her fingers in Rachel’s hair, her breath hot against Rachel’s lips. Rachel looked at Quinn’s eyes, which were fixed on her lips, she didn’t pull away. Somehow, even though Quinn’s grip was kind of hurting her, she felt safe.

“I need to get out of here.” Rachel whispered.

“Why would you want to?” Quinn’s bottom lip quivered. “You’re home.”

And there it was, the only statement that mattered, all Quinn ever wanted to say to Rachel and all she ever wanted Rachel to understand and accept. Because for Rachel to accept that this was home, would be to accept that Quinn was her home. Quinn let her hands drop and Rachel ducked her head, they stayed in the same proximity, neither saying a word.

“I’d find someone to take my spot.” Rachel said finally. It was like someone had shot Quinn in the stomach.

“Fine,” Quinn waved her hand dismissively, and walked back to her desk.

“Fine?” Rachel asked.

“Do what you want, Rachel. You’re right, you don’t belong to me. I can’t stop you, but just remember-“ She cut herself off, she was about to spit out something harsh, but the tears welling in her eyes, were about to spill forth and got the best of her. “Just remember, you can always come back.”

“You need to get over me, Quinn.”

“Excuse me?” Quinn whipped around.

“You’re, like, obsessed with me. Ever since… ever since,” Rachel stumbled over her words, not able to decide what to let out.

“Ever since what, Rachel?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Tell me.”

“Ever since that stupid fucking night. I was drunk, we were both drunk, and _I_ kissed you, but I didn’t mean it. Let it go. Let _me_ go.” Rachel was crying now, while Quinn just stared at her. She remembered. Rachel had remembered soon after they had parted ways the next morning, it had slipped into her mind clear as day. But unlike Quinn, she had pushed it as far away as possible. Because she couldn’t confront those feelings, she had never been able to.

“ _You_ kissed me. Drunk you is trying to tell you something, Rachel.” Quinn sighed, and sunk down in her desk chair. Rachel had kissed her and that was all she needed to confirm that whatever it was between them was mutual. “If you think leaving this and me, is going to erase whatever’s in that fucking ice cold heart of yours, think again. It doesn’t work like that.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Rachel shouted, angrily brushing away the tears from her cheeks.

“I know you, Rachel. Get your head out of your ass, and out of this fucking romanticized notion that you are some big mystery! I _know_ you. I know you better than I know myself sometimes and that scares the fuck out of me, and I know that scares the fuck out of you too! Admit it! Admit that _this_ is more than a friendship, that we are more than that. _Please_.” Quinn doesn’t mean to plead, but it all comes out in a blurry mess in a tone angrier than she planned, and she can’t help it. She just wants Rachel to admit she cares about her. Rachel is quiet as she sits down on the couch, she opens her mouth to speak multiple times but nothing comes out. Quinn moves to sit next to her, pulling Rachel’s arm away from where it is clutched at her stomach and lacing her fingers in hers. Rachel looks down at the intertwined hands. She has a sudden wave of hatred for Quinn, hatred because she could accept whatever it was between them, when Rachel couldn’t. She looked at Quinn, who was looking at her, and then kissed her softly.

“Was that so fucking hard?” Quinn murmured as they pulled away and Rachel rolled her eyes, kissing her again, this time harder and with more purpose. Quinn’s hands moved up into Rachel’s long hair, as Rachel’s hands went under Quinn’s shirt.

“Take it off,” Rachel murmured breathlessly. Quinn pulled her top off obediently, along with her bra, and shifted so that Rachel was on top of her. Quinn had a moment of incredulousness that this was happening – Rachel was straddling her, Rachel had just made out with her, Rachel had just commanded her to take off her top. And now Rachel was kissing her stomach, flicking her tongue in her belly button, spiraling circles around her nipples with her finger tips, causing Quinn’s whole body to cover in goose bumps, her nipples erect. Rachel shifted down Quinn’s legs, nudging them apart so she could crouch between them; she unzipped Quinn’s work pants and pulled them down with her underwear. Quinn let out a moan, and Rachel looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. Then she dipped her head down, parting the lips with her fingers and letting her tongue flick against Quinn’s clit teasingly. Quinn’s shoulders pulled back as she arched her back, breathing heavily.

“Rachel.” She groaned.

Rachel laughed, but obligingly flicked her tongue with more purpose this time and without pause. She pushed one finger inside and then a second, ushered on by Quinn’s breathy moans. Eventually she pushed in a third, and Quinn’s hips bucked up involuntarily.

“Don’t. Stop.” She managed to say, as she reached a hand out to hold Rachel’s head down. Rachel continued, her wrist her ached and she could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck, but none of it mattered until Quinn was finished, because the only important thing to her was ensuring Quinn’s pleasure. Quinn let out a higher pitched moan and her hips hit back down onto the couch, as Rachel slowly removed her fingers, her tongue lapping at Quinn’s sex, wanting to taste every bit of her. Then she sat up, out of breath, pushing her hair to one side, as she watched Quinn recover. Her fringe was stuck to her forehead and her eyes were still closed, but Rachel was focused on the most innocently beautiful smile that was on her face. She looked so satisfied and Rachel thought how she could have passed this up. How she could have decided not to experience _this_.

“I’m still terrified of what this will be and I still don’t-“ Rachel started to say hurriedly.

“Don’t.” Quinn murmured, cutting her off. She slowly let her weight down on Quinn’s chest, and felt Quinn’s arm wrap around her. She let her fingers linger over Quinn’s breast and let out a sigh. Quinn kissed the top of her head and they eventually fell asleep.


End file.
